The Butterfly Effect
by Just Your Average Girl
Summary: Syaoran awakens one morning to a sight he had spent his whole life trying to prevent. After witnessing Sakura's death, he spirals into a deep depression. Is there still hope in a world with no light? Can he save Sakura from the clutches of Death? SxS
1. Blood

Author's Note: Welcome, welcome! This is my very first attempt at writing a multi-chapter Card Captor Sakura fanfiction in first person view, so I hope it won't disappoint. I admit now that chapters may come very slowly, as studies and other insanities will take shotgun before this story. However, I've got a plan out already, so fear not, it will be finished someday!

Warnings: Gore, blood. Not for the faint of heart!

Please read, rate and review. Any and all comments will be greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of CardCaptor Sakura. Or Trauma Center.

* * *

**The Butterfly Effect**

_1. Blood_

Something wasn't right.

I could feel it in the tension around me, in the way my every hair stood on end, the way the air felt against my skin. I couldn't place exactly what it was, and that was what bothered me. I retraced my steps from where I stood at the doorway, to my bedroom, across the hall, and into the bathroom. Everything was tidy and in place, the way I'd always kept it. Still I fidgeted with the house keys absent-mindedly in my hand, turning them over and over again. Besides my breathing, the clanging of those keys was all I could hear, although the increasing pace of my heart was going to win that contest soon enough.

I checked inside the closets and under the bed, as my fruitless searching had yet to lead me anywhere. Finding nothing, I paused and wondered what might be amiss. The lights were all off, the bathroom was clean, my bed was made, I'd not turned on the stove all morning, and I'd called Sakura, gotten her answering machine and left her a message telling her I'd be at her place in ten minutes. Nothing was wrong with any of that.

I laughed inwardly at myself and shook my head slightly at my overly cautious behavior. It was just like me to have this kind of feeling, even if nothing was really wrong. Sakura often chided me to relax. How could she possibly know she was the only one who could actually help me do that? Taking one deep breath, I tried to relax just a little. I would be seeing Sakura soon anyway, and then all would be right with the world again. There was really no need to be nervous. I laughed again, this time aloud. I needed to hear something other than my furious heartbeat. It came out as more of a barking cough, choked and dry. I really needed a drink of water. Yes, that's exactly what I needed. Nothing was wrong.

So why did I _feel _like something was wrong?

I locked the door and set off for Sakura's flat. My feeling was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. I kept telling myself those words as I walked just a little faster and turned the corner at the end of the street. I shook it completely from my mind and concentrated on seeing Sakura again. _Sakura._ I recited her name like a mantra in my head.

I couldn't help thinking about her all the time. She was my entire world, and so she was everywhere. My clothing smelled like her, the visions behind my eyelids were always of her gentle smile, my music held dear memories of her, even the green of the leaves on trees seemed to pay tribute to her breathtakingly deep eyes. Sakura was so imbued into my very existence that it was difficult to remember a time when I didn't love her.

We'd met almost a decade ago, in fourth grade. You might not believe me now if I told you I started out hating her. Can you believe that, anyone, anyone at all, ever hating Sakura? The sweetest, kindest girl on the planet, and I hated her! In my defense, I was a cold child, so focused on my training and the wishes of the Elders of the Li Clan that the thought had never occurred to me of making _friends_.

I had been trained by the Elders to suffocate my emotions since I could remember. The very first memory that I can call to mind is when I was two, and Wei taught me to bind my hands before a fight with strips of fabric gauze wrapped tightly between my fingers, snaking around my hand, and tied at the wrist. He told me to always protect myself. I learned how to do so perfectly. Shielding myself from damage was the simplest way to deal with the world. Why subject yourself to the pains of love and friendship when it made you hurt in the end? That was what the Elders had taught me, and it was all that I knew.

I grew stronger and stronger as the years passed. Careful training and dedication made me the most agile of my cousins. It got to the point where it became boring to train alongside anyone but my cousin Meilin, the closest person I had to a friend – although at the time she was more of a training partner than anything. Every move was dealt with precision. I blocked out all other thoughts until every shred of my being was focused on the hit. There were no allies, only enemies. It made me the loneliest, the coldest of my family members. I didn't realize it until later, but I had, by learning to defend myself in combat, walled myself from the entire world – even beautiful angels like Sakura.

So when this girl's bright green eyes – in retrospect, they were more chartreuse than anything – met mine with so much warmth, a beautiful and genuine smile on her face, my heart literally spluttered. I flinched immediately, I remember, and even frowned at her. It wasn't supposed to happen, especially not with people who smiled and were _nice_. Being nice made you _weak_. At least, that's what I had been taught by the Li Clan Elders ever since I started training. My constant lightheadedness and increased heart rate made me uncomfortable, and her continued kindness frustrated me. How could someone be so kind under my cold glare? I thought first that she was insane, and then that she was stupid. Did she not understand that it was useless to be a nice person?

But as time wore on, and Sakura continued thanking me for my _help_ – that's what she called my antipathy towards her: _help_ – I couldn't help but feel a certain pity for the girl. It's a ridiculous thought now, to think that I pitied her, when really I was the pitiful person. Like a criminal judging the innocent. But I pitied her. I thought it was unfortunate she hadn't undergone any training before setting out to capture the Cards. I saw her potential – she had a different fighting style than mine, quite effective in fact, that relied on emotions and sentiment, although it was completely devoid of any gracefulness, poise or knowledge of the Clow Cards whatsoever. I scoffed at her nescience, and often took advantage of her weaknesses to attack her – another tactic taught to me by the Elders.

What surprised me was that my successful blows brought me no satisfaction. In fact, seeing her cringe at my cruel words, seeing her smile falter for just a moment, made me feel very horrible. Another big surprise for me, because feeling bad for someone was not something I was taught or familiar with. At first, I didn't know what it was. You might think it amusing when I tell you now that my first thought was that the pain – the twinge in my heart, the sinking in my stomach, the curling of my insides – were all part of some spell the girl had cast on me, some sort of defense mechanism she had cleverly put up against me. That was me then, always thinking in terms of combat tactics. It intrigued me. I had never heard of such a curse in all my years of study, and it boggled my mind that she could outfox me in any way, make me feel bad for her sadness. I asked Wei about it once, and he laughed gently, telling me it was called "guilt". It sounded so ominous a word, "guilt". I thought it was some nasty disease: "Gangliated Utrophin Immuno Latency Toxin" or something to that effect. But Wei laughed again and explained to me that guilt is simply the feeling you have when you know you have done something wrong. He explained to me that I had hurt Sakura's feelings by telling her she was a _baka_, always putting her down and telling her she wasn't good enough.

It made me feel very horrible to know I had made Sakura sad, because she had always been so nice to me, even despite the poor way I treated her. Despite myself, I began to see the beauty in her. Her unconditional kindness was an immense strength, not a weakness, I realized. It was so easy to simply be angry and fight with your fists. But Sakura showed me a completely different way of fighting, a much more powerful and stealthy way. Her generous heart, her contagious giggle, her breathtaking beauty all drew you in until you were completely entranced, and then you couldn't escape from the final blow – she easily captured the hearts of many. Including, I finally realized, my own.

It was so very difficult to admit in the beginning. Me, Li Syaoran, in love with Kinomoto Sakura? Never! My carefully built wall was impenetrable, the Elders had made sure of that with their masterfully orchestrated training. I steeled myself against my feelings, shaking my head when I felt the increased heart rate, and the blood rushed to my head and made me dizzy. As if that would make me forget how absolutely wonderful she was. She was a constant distraction. I found myself losing sleep thinking about her. I couldn't eat some mornings because of the frantic butterflies that flitted about in my stomach.

In the end, I accepted it. And after I allowed the feeling to take me over, it seemed only to become stronger, as it seemed my entire existence throbbed with love for her. It was overwhelming, the most powerful weapon of mass destruction. For her, the walls around my heart fell completely and I found myself openly admiring her. I thanked my luck for Sakura's gloriously oblivious nature – she saw nothing but friendship behind my compulsion to protect her and my need to watch over her and keep her safe from harm. I was now concerned with protecting myself from the inevitable fall. I knew we were from completely different worlds. I was a monster, cold and unfeeling, and she was an angel, bathing the world in her light and empathy. However much she may have plagued my mind with her blinding perfection, I was sure I couldn't have been more than a fleeting thought in hers. We had been forced together by necessity. I needed her, but she didn't really need me. Why should I think she liked me any more than she liked any one of her other friends? I contented myself with her company. It was better, I argued, to be best friends with her than to have nothing at all. And so my heart was silent.

Of course, in my brilliant battle plan, I never accounted for the secret weapon, the independent variable, if you will. Tomoyo was always the most observant of Sakura's friends. She watched Sakura as closely as I did myself, perhaps even closer yet, and still had the perception to see those who also admired the blossom. I had been caught almost a year before I myself discovered my feelings for Sakura – that is how perceptive she was. And when she noticed me backing away and rebuilding a wall around myself, protecting myself from the inevitable pain of rejection, she took direct action. Truly a force to be dealt with, that Tomoyo. I was nervous the entire time we talked, I felt like a convict being interrogated for a crime. If loving Sakura was a crime, I could be sentenced to life in prison for all I cared. All that mattered to me was that she was _safe_. After that, if she decided I was guilty, then she could punish me and banish me from her life, but I would make sure she was _safe_. But Tomoyo simply laughed. Her wise eyes and heartwarming encouragement helped me push forward. I began to gather my courage. Always the wily creature, the raven spoke to me often and reminded me of the importance of making my feelings known to the girl I had grown to love.

There was always this burning war inside of me. To tell, or not to tell. A much more pressing question than one of mere existence, my dear Hamlet. For to be without my angel would hardly be an existence at all. There was so much at stake... At this point, it was pointless to imagine a life without Sakura. She had taught me love, and kindness, and virtue. She was, surely, the one thing that held my life in place, the one person who had shone a light so strongly into my life as to change my cold ways. And so I couldn't afford to _lose_ her, do you understand? But at the same time, the sight of her – her emerald eyes and inclusions of deep forest green, her silky and rich auburn hair, her creamy, warm skin, and last of all the genuine smile that melted my heart – all of it compelled me to _have_ her, if only to put my training to good use and shield her from the evils of the world. In the end, the cunning raven's tactics penetrated my defenses.

And so it was, after a grueling battle of life or death, my defenses low and my mind spinning, I confessed my love to Sakura. No singular moment had ever meant more to me. I can't explain to you the nerves, the coldness of my hands, the unconsciousness that threatened to take me, all at once. My words sounded as if spoken by another, as if some power stronger than my own had willed me to finally express what I had kept secret for so long. And then, nothing else mattered. It didn't matter that she might not even love me back. It didn't even matter when Mother called and told me I would need to return to Hong Kong. Because all that mattered was that I _loved_ her. I had accepted that truth, and a truth it would always remain. If distance would hold me away from my angel's side, then in spirit I would be with her.

I will never forget the moment Sakura told me she loved me. She _loved_ me. Not the way a friend loves a friend, or a sister loves a brother, but the way I did, passionate and strong and threatening to overwhelm me at all times. Hearing those words, I can recall precisely the smell of the air, the breeze as it kissed my face, the resplendence of the rising sun, and finally her beautiful, lovely eyes. And then, as the seconds passed, and I began to lose myself in the depth of her forest green eyes, I saw them cloud over with tears. And the sight of those tears snapped me out of my reverie – I reminded her that my love for her stood true. Those words echoed in my heart and flowed through my veins with so much truth that I felt I had been lying before. I loved her more than could possibly be imagined.

She jumped across the precipice – despite my warnings not to; I'd told her everything would return to normal, and I feared she may take a wrong step and fall through the wide – her soft hair billowing in the morning winds, and I held her finally in my arms. I'd never been so purely _happy_. When she moved her soft lips from the cradle in my neck to my ear, I swear my heart stopped right then.

"Arigatou, my angel," she whispered. I laughed inwardly. The silly, wonderful girl; _she_ was _my_ angel!

From then on, we were inseparable. Reveling in our love, basking in the newfound light, I truly felt complete. And for the first time, all was right with the world. The war in my heart had ceased, and all was peaceful.

And now, here we were, nineteen and in love. Every day was like the first day, and I remembered with startling clarity the overwhelming beauty of her. I couldn't imagine my life without her now. I've said it before, she'd become such an integral part of me it was impossible to separate us.

I turned the final corner, and continued down the street. My heart rate was finally in check; thinking about Sakura always managed to assuage my irrational fears. My senses were always too acute, my training had never left me even after all these years. There really was nothing to worry about.

Except as I approached Sakura's flat, I could feel my heart thumping loudly again. It wasn't nerves, that much I knew. That always went hand in hand with a curling stomach and a light head. This... was completely different. Strange. Almost dangerous. My breathing came now in shallow breaths as I walked more quickly to Sakura's door. I could hardly reach the door fast enough, it seemed. My hands trembled inside my pockets, and I swallowed painfully. Finally at her door, I realized something was _definitely_ wrong.

Horribly wrong.

Menacingly wrong.

_Deathly_ wrong.

Sakura's name kept repeating over and over in my head, but it was no longer a comfort to me. The voice sounded more frantic in my head than it had only ten minutes ago when I left my apartment. In fact, it sounded much more now like a warning. And only one truth rang inside my head, chilling my blood. _Sakura was not safe. _

My muscles burned to open the door faster, to shield her from whatever danger she might be presented with. It was a battle between the shaking of my hands and my will to be quicker. In the end, my fear won over my hands, and I pushed the door open with surprising force.

And there, before my eyes, was the most gruesome sight.

Too much red. Deep, scarlet, almost black, there was so much of it... _Blood_, I realized. The smell was overpowering, of iron and bitterness, and my own heart grew faint. I was torn between wanting to look away, and needing to comprehend. The blood continued to consume the floor with its sickly thickness, reaching the carpet, staining the colorful fabric with an overwhelming spray of bright red. My stomach churned with a foreign emotion – fear. My eyes trailed to the thin body, frail and limp, lying soaked in crimson. One arm lay underneath her head, the other lay beside her. She looked as if she could be sleeping. Buzzing echoed in my ears, and I reached her porcelain face. I could barely breathe. I felt the darkness creeping from within me, but I forced myself to understand. Once creamy skin, now white as ivory, stained with the blush of blood that smeared her cheek. Her eyes, thank Kami-sama, were closed. Like this, I could imagine she was sleeping, delude myself that she might open her cajoling, mischievous eyes and tell me it was all a joke. A cruel, sad, sick joke. But the realization dawned deep within me, clamped onto my heart, and ripped into it with carnivorous fangs.

The room spun uncontrollably now, threatening to topple me over. My legs began to buckle under the weight. I caught one last glimpse of my fallen angel. Then, all went black.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Did anyone catch my Trauma Center reference? Next chapter should be up within the week, perhaps a little longer. Remember to review! Motivation always serves for the greater good. :)

Next chapter...

Depression. Angst. Guilt. Tears. Keroberos. Research. And magic.


	2. Loss

Author's Note: Finally, a new chapter up! Enjoy, and don't forget to leave reviews! The more reviews I get, the more motivation I have to write faster. (evil glint)

Disclaimer: I claim no possession of Card Captor Sakura or any related characters.

* * *

_2. Loss:_

The darkness consumed me like cold waters, and I drowned in its depths. I struggled to find my breath, but all that I could feel was nothingness. The tangible feeling of being sucked into the voids of a black hole. I could feel myself slipping further and further down, shying away from the beating warmth of the sun and into the calm slumber of death. I didn't want to wake up. I didn't want to have to face the reality I had witnessed. I could see only the crimson stains of _her_ blood. I could barely think her name, or I knew my tears would fall and be lost in the waters that held me prisoner.

Images floated in my mind, distorted and disproportionate, like figures from a nightmare. The sickly white of her skin. The flowers of blood that seeped into the carpet. The thick black puddle, so sleek I could see myself reflected in its shallow depths. And in the dark confines of my mind, I could see her lifeless orbs glowing with an unnatural green aura, as if frozen in horror at some deathly sight.

Slowly, slowly, I felt the pressure normalize. The waters of unconsciousness began to settle. The sun was much closer now, I could feel its warmth spread across my chest, and then my arms and legs, and last my face and eyelids. I had somehow risen from the depths, and I could feel consciousness rise from the back of my head. I inhaled one deep breath of much-needed fresh air. Suddenly I was aware of my surroundings, although I kept my eyes closed. I was still haunted by the horrifying images, and I didn't want to be reminded of their gruesomeness.

One thing was certain, I was no longer at Sak—_her_ place. It smelled distinctly different, like antique wood and books, completely devoid of the acrid odor of iron and rust. I could hear very faint buzzing from the next room over, muffled by thick walls. From what I could feel, I was lying on some sort of mattress, or at the very least a futon. By the strength of the rays of light that struck my eyelids, I estimated it should be midday.

I felt absolutely no compulsion to move. I don't know how long I lay there. It felt like many hours. I lay there silently, replaying the events in my mind, and each time the images became worse. Blood swirled in my head like a maelstrom. Her beautiful, lovely face, distorted so I could see nothing but her terror-filled eyes. Her limp body, never so small to me, so frail. I occasionally noticed the moving angle of the sun, fading in strength, until my eyelids were cold again, and I realized it was night.

I felt numb. The images had left me, and I remained alone with the dull comfort of silence, and darkness. I could hear nothing but my own breathing, the faint thumping of my heart. I could sense my existence ebbing, my mind fading. I no longer wished to live. Through my training, my willpower had become impossibly strong, and I could not find in me the will to _exist_ any longer. She and I had been one, and it had become impossible for one to live without the other.

My senses were awakened when I felt the overwhelming aura of another magical being. My heart was shattered again when the tiny glimmer of hope that it might be _her_ pink and life-giving aura was lost altogether. It was much heavier than hers, much older. Antique, like the smell of the wood. Lost in my sea of sorrow, I reluctantly scanned my knowledge. Who could it be? It was so familiar, yet difficult to place. Who else could possibly have so much magical power... ?

_Eriol._

His name had barely entered my mind, had barely grazed the surfaces of my thoughts, when his own even-tempered voice answered me.

"Syaoran," he whispered. He knew it was loud enough for my sensitive ears to understand. I lay perfectly still, my breath even. I fought the compulsion to open my eyes. I didn't want to awaken from my slow descent to death, didn't want to acknowledge a world without my angel. The images were only barely contained, and I felt any disturbance might break the dam and I would feel the shattering blow again deep in my stomach. The room remained silent for several long moments. I controlled my thoughts, gathered my composure.

"Eriol," I answered finally in kind, acknowledging his presence. I immediately regretted my tone and felt my muscles twitch at the sound of my own voice. Cold and harsh as ice, I felt his name cut into the air like the swift blow of a katana. I hadn't meant to sound so angered, so violent. I sensed, even with my eyes closed, the tensing of his muscles, the clenching of his teeth – he had cringed. It was a sudden reminiscence of earlier years, I realized. In a matter of hours, I had reverted to the cold and solitary child I had once been, had rebuilt the stone wall that had once separated me from the warmth of love and happiness. With both stripped from me, I felt strangely empty, as if in losing them I had also lost my purpose for living.

"Syaoran," he repeated, gentler now. It sounded more like a request than a statement, less like he was simply acknowledging my presence, and more like he was appealing to my sense of reason.

I sighed inwardly. I supposed then that I would not receive the peace required to drift into unconsciousness. I reluctantly forced my eyes open. The room spun for a moment, and slowly everything came into focus. I saw first the tall, cathedral ceilings, casting sharp contrasts of light and darkness, and the dim and intimate lighting provided by gas light fixtures on the wall. My eyes trailed downward to the simple adornments in the room itself – an antique chair and its accompanying desk, two bookshelves filled with ancient-looking tomes and leather-bound volumes. They explained the oddly comforting scents I had identified upon first reaching consciousness. The object beneath me thanks to which I had avoided a back ache was a futon, as I had suspected. Having finally satisfied my curiosity, I finally turned my gaze towards the sorcerer himself.

His customary blue robes hadn't changed in the slightest in the last decade, and it looked simply as though they had grown _with_ him. Whether he had fashioned a new robe, or had used his magic to enhance the old one was a mystery to me. It was beautiful, the midnight azure complementing the proud sparkle of sun gold threads, painting an intricate pattern – absolutely mesmerizing and perfectly befitting the reincarnation of the once-great Clow Reed.

The man himself had grown much since we had last met. The roundness of his child's face had thinned, and his pale skin drew tightly across his high cheekbones. And yet, he still looked like the very same Eriol I had known so many years ago. His calm demeanor, his kind features, his thick eyebrows hiding centuries of knowledge, in spirit much older than his twenty-odd years. However, behind thin wire glasses, Eriol's eyes were thick with pain, regret, and age, gazing at me with some forlorn look.

I understood at once what he meant. He knew. He had seen. And so a look of understanding passed between us, and no words were passed for several minutes. I shared with him my pain, my sadness, and he shared his with me. In those few minutes, I found some semblance of comfort, a feeling that I was not completely alone in my depression. For in losing my only love, Eriol had lost a descendent in magical ability. And together, we had lost a best friend.

Simply his presence threatened to bring back memories of her, and I turned away, not wanting to entertain the possibility that my careful control would be lost. Eriol must have taken this gesture as a sign of anger, because he sighed and muttered something. It was so slurred that I barely understood what he had said.

"I'm sorry," he repeated more clearly. His voice had broken, and his face had fallen. I thought I saw the glimmer of a tear as it fell to the ground, heard the imperceptible pitter it made as it wet the floor.

"It's not your fault, Eriol," I replied, my own voice tight. It was not a humiliating sight to see him cry. It required strength to succumb to tears, and I understood his thoughts perfectly. Sorry didn't even begin to explain how I felt. How much I felt like a failure. My only promise had been to protect her, and yet I hadn't been able to do even that.

"The fault is not yours," he added sincerely, meeting my gaze again with such intensity I wondered if he could read my mind. I sighed audibly, not able to hold in my exasperation and my frustration any longer.

"Of _course_ it's my fault. There are so many things I could have done to prevent it. I should have been there with her, not left her alone last night. I should have listened to my nerves, I _knew_ something was wrong this morning – " Had it really been so recent? It felt so distant, like the horrible nightmares that haunted me when I closed my eyes were memories of something that had happened a long time ago. And yet I knew it had only happened hours ago, I could feel my wounded heart throbbing painfully at the knowledge that she was _gone_. I swallowed hard and continued, "— I knew I should have been there. I got her answering machine this morning, I should have _known_ something was wrong. She always picks up the phone, I can't believe how stupid I was for even thinking I should neglect my senses –"

"Syaoran, please calm down," he interjected, putting a stop on my explanations with an intense look in his eyes. "You mustn't place the blame for what happened to Sakura on yourself..."

The sound of her name silenced me for a moment, and my heart pinched. He left the final word hanging on a precipice, as if he was preparing himself to continue, but needed time to phrase it. I gazed into his wise eyes and searched for what he may be thinking. All I saw was chaos. He continued.

"Her... death... was not a coincidence. It has been said before – there is no coincidence in this world, only _hitsuzen_," he finished lingering carefully on every word. The word was vague in my mind, but I remembered it. It was Kaho-sensei who had used it during Yue's Final Judgment. _Hitsuzen_ – loosely translated it meant "that which is inevitable", but in truth it was much subtler. It was the concept that events were destined to occur as they paved the way for necessary future actions.

"So what you're trying to say is, she was... _destined_ to die?" I asked, my brows furrowed. I struggled to control my rising temper – I would not allow myself to believe that my angel's death was inevitable. Eriol shook his head.

"No. She is destined to _live_," he clarified. I did not understand, it seemed to contradict everything. He explained.

"I suppose it would make most sense for me to go back to the beginning. Being the reincarnation of Clow Reed, I possess his memories and replicated magic of his. However, I am not Clow Reed. I embody only one of his halves – the other half, as you know, resides in Sakura's father. I possess weakened magic of Clow Reed's, while Fujitaka possesses none. In truth, Sakura's father once possessed hidden magic of equal strength to mine. Fujitaka's half was passed to Touya and Sakura upon their births.

"My own power is limited. I wield powerful spells, and my memories provide me with vast knowledge of the magical world. However, there are... holes. Blind spots. I cannot see everything. Certain aspects of the future I cannot behold. I suppose this must be the consequence of being one half of a whole. The limitations of my power impeded visions of Sakura's death.

"I have known for several decades that there would be a period of blindness. It was very uncomfortable to not _see_, and it made me irritable. I searched within every book, every page, for possibilities. Spells strong enough to cloud my visions. I found very little, and what the books described, I already knew. I searched within the confines of my mind. I meditated for many months, nearly exhausting my memory banks.

"I found, in the end, a very old memory. It was fragmented, and I couldn't see it clearly. It was much like attempting to decipher washed away ink. All I remembered was a sorcerer of great power, a rival to Clow Reed, with great hatred. My intuition told me it was relevant, that it would provide answers. Although, judging by the strength of the memory, I do not possess it entirely.

"Even now, my visions are murky. I do not completely comprehend the memory I found. However, I can see past this period of blindness. Sakura must live. She will live."

He finished powerfully, his eyes filled with light. My mind juggled with the fresh knowledge. The entire battle plan had changed in a matter of minutes. Clow Reed's visions were never incorrect. And if Eriol were to be believed, then that would mean...

"I can save Sakura?" I allowed myself to pronounce her name, my heart awakening with the possibility that it may find its reason for beating.

Eriol nodded once.

And for what felt like the first time, there was _hope_. Whatever it meant, however long it took, I would save Sakura.

* * *

Author's Note: Eek, sorry for the slight delay! I did manage to complete another chapter in time for New Years, so at least that's that. I realize I lied last chapter, no Kero here, sorry folks. I altered the plot a bit since the first chapter, and it looks like he'll be absent for a few more... Not to worry though, he should make his appearance soon enough! Stay tuned, and **please don't forget to review**!


End file.
